His Resolve
by PaintTheAlienPink
Summary: HetaOni. Italy battles sorrow and anguish as he runs through the halls of the haunted mansion, alone.


**A/N: This might contain spoilers for those who haven't seen HetaOni or those who haven't come that far yet. There are some quotes in this, from HetaOni and from Italy's Marukaite Chikyuu. Also, I don't own anything, neither Hetalia or HetaOni. They belong to their respective creators. I wasn't sure about the rating, but I chose T because I personally think that the story is a bit depressing. Italy might be a little bit out of character, but then again, it's Hetaoni!Italy.**

* * *

Run, run for your life_. Run,_ Italy. The words haunted him as he ran through the corridors of the damned mansion. His breathing was labored, his body felt heavy, so incredibly heavy. When was the last time that he had slept? Italy couldn't remember, he really couldn't. It could easily have been for as long as only three hours ago, but it could also be several days since he had last felt the bless of sleep. Italy couldn't remember.

Not now, not with all of the different time-loops merging together, making distinguishing one time-loop from another downright impossible. It wasn't that he hadn't tried. It was just all too much. Every separate memory from an uncountable number of time-loops just made everything harder, making him lose concentration, making him fail during the current time-loop. And the next after that, and the one after that, and the one after that. It just went on and on and on. Italy couldn't change that, he couldn't. He had tried, was still trying, but just failed.

There had only been one reason Italy survived the first time-loop, he knew that very well. Everyone had been protecting him. Little weak Italy. If he had been stronger, not such a coward, maybe the outcome would've been different. Italy would never know.

"_Draw a circle, that's the earth, draw a circle, that's the earth, draw a circle, that's the earth, I'm __**useless **__Italy_." Useless, useless, USELESS! If he hadn't been such a coward, if he had done something... It was his fault that all of this had happened, right? _He_ had heard about the mansion, _he_ had told America about it, _he_ had been the only one to survive.

"_Take us back_". That was surely a sentence he remembered.

Even when he had the chance to change it all, he was too weak. Too weak to save his friends, too weak to do anything. All he could to was to run. _'The only thing I'm good at'_, Italy thought bitterly. The only time-loops he could remember clearly were the first one - it was suffocating to think back to - and the one he were in now. The other ones? Melted into each other, impossible to see individually.

Who had died during the fourth time-loop? Who had died in the fifteenth? Which time-loop was the first wherein England had become blind from overuse of magic? In which time-loops had the others found out the truth? It was like muddy, polluted water. It was so hard to see trough the tangle of memories.

Italy could at least still remember his current time-loop. China was dead, so was Germany. Maybe France too, depending on how serious his wound was. And to think that it all had happened only within the space of a few hours. It had been going so well. Italy had actually thought that they could make it out this time. He felt dumb for daring to believe such a thing. Something would always go wrong, it seemed.

They had been looking for the key out when the monster had attacked. China had been the closest to where it appeared, hence quickly receiving a fatal blow. Japan had taken China away from the monster, desperately trying to stop the crimson blood from flowing out of the Chinese man's body. Needless to say that he had failed. The look on Japan's face as China said his last words were filled with disbelief and the closest thing to grief Italy had even seen on his friend's face. And he couldn't take it.

Meanwhile, _as China had been laying dying, staining the ground, staining Japan's once white uniform red_, the battle against the monster hadn't been going in their favor at all. Everyone had been tired. Even when they did their best, it just wasn't enough. It was never enough. Never. Then, the monster had tried to attack Italy. He would have dodged, but... Instead of him being pierced by the monster's claws... It had been Germany.

Not again, was all that he could think when it had happened. Once again, he had been too weak to save his friends, to do anything. The monster was after him, it wanted HIM, not any of the others. If he had stayed there... Everyone but him would've died. As he had seen France getting cut down, Italy had made this decision. With lightning speed, he had fled the room, ignoring the cries his friends made after him.

The monster was following him now, instead of staying and hurting Italy's friends. Italy didn't know what had happened to the friends he had left in the room where Germany's body lay. At least... Germany hadn't suffered. Italy knew that there were times when one of his friends had been hurt beyond saving, being forced to suffer through the last hours of their life. Italy despised it. He didn't care that among the group of people he came to the mansion with, there where people he had once been afraid of. In the mansion, everyone was the same.

Nations could take so much more than the average human and that's what they were used to, but now... In the mansion, they were human. Fragile. So very, very fragile. So many ways to die, so many ways to suffer. It was a secret, like many things in the mansion... But one of the reasons Italy didn't dare to sleep was because of the nightmares. Every time he fell asleep, always because he was too tired to do anything else, the images of his friends dying, their blood splattering on the walls and floors of the mansion. It was driving Italy, slowly, but surely, insane. It was going to happen soon, he knew. But he just couldn't bring himself to care anymore. Because he knew:

He had to turn the time back once again.

There was no other solution than that, was there? Italy had made vow to himself, to make it out of the mansion with everyone. He hadn't succeeded any time before this and wouldn't now either. Every time, he made some kind of mistake and the others had to suffer because of it... What kind of friend was he, really? Just letting his friends die, over and over again... If so much as one of them didn't make it out alive in the end...

How would he ever be able to look any of the other nations in the eyes again?

That's why, among other reasons, that Italy had to succeed. Failure... Failure wasn't an option. Maybe in the past, before he came to the mansion, when he always had to scream for Germany to help... Not this time. No, in the next time-loop, Italy wasn't going to be weak anymore. Or at least... So he hoped. He had most likely said that before, in other time-loops, without remembering it now. _'I won't be weak anymore.'_ He wondered how many times he had failed that promise, how many times he would do it after this time.

Maybe... They were never going to make it out of the mansion. Maybe no one had ever done that before. Italy didn't know. He was so very, very insecure. Most of it all, he wanted to break down and cry. No one would have expected him to stay strong through something like this. None of the others wouldn't have NOT cried at some point. Italy wanted to cry, but he knew that he couldn't. He had to stay strong, because if he didn't... How would he be able to save his friends? He couldn't afford to make such a mistake as to break down and cry, not now. Not now, with the bane of his existence, the monster of the mansion, running after him. If he slowed down now... Everything would be for nothing. Italy couldn't afford to die. Not in this situation. Not until after he could make sure that all of the others would make it out safely.

_'If I could, I would give my very own life for the others to make it out of here'_, Italy thought. Truth was though, that he didn't want to die. Despite the fact that he was ready to die for the others to get out of the mansion... He wanted to live, he wanted to see his brother again. He wanted to see... All the other people he were grateful that he left behind when he went to the mansion. But he missed his brother the most. Despite the fact that their relation was less than perfect, they were still brothers, each one of them one half of a country, a nation. Italy Veneziano and Italy Romano. If Italy didn't make it out of this mansion... He would never see his brother again, or anyone else that he knew for that matter. And what about the friends and siblings of the people he had entered the mansion with? Austria, Hungary, Russia's siblings, everyone else... They didn't know anything about what was going on in the mansion. But if they had... The surely would have wanted Italy to keep on going. That was what he was going to do.

That's why, with a renewed resolve, that Italy kept on running towards the room wherein the grand clock resided this time around. He sprinted into the room, shut the door firmly behind him as fast as he could and locked it, locking the monster out.

"..." Italy was panting, sweat mixed with blood and maybe tears running down his face. He was exhausted, had almost no energy left. Hopefully... This would be the last time that he found himself in this situation. Maybe this was the last time he needed to go find the grand clock and turn back the time. Maybe...

He allowed himself to catch his breath and let his eyes fall upon the grand clock, the only thing in the centre of an empty room. The clock was old and had been of a white colour in the beginning - now it was stained. Red with new blood and brown with dried. It was the source of all of Italy's despair but also his biggest hope. If he hadn't been given the chance to go back in time to safe his friends... He wouldn't have known what to do. Willing himself away from that kind of thoughts, Italy began walking towards the clock on shaky legs.

"Hey", he almost whispered, "Looks like I have to turn time back again," he said as he walked up to the clock. "So please... Bring us back." When he raised his hand to the clock and he could feel the familiar pull as time was turned back, Italy felt a new, strong resolve. He had gotten a new chance and he would make the best he could of it. But... How many more times would he have this chance? How many more times would he have watch his friends die in front of him? How many more chances to make things right would he have? How many more times would he be allowed to make mistakes?

Italy didn't know, and that was an eternal source of despair on his part. He didn't know. That's why he had to act accordingly, not lose his head, make sure that everyone would get out this time. If he succeeded... Maybe this loop could finally be the time-loop where he and the others left the mansion permanently, the final time-loop. It could happen, right? Italy could make it happen, one way or another. He had been close before, he knew it. That meant that he could be close to succeeding again and actually get out this time. This was his resolve.

Despite all the hopelessness and emptiness that he felt everyone time he turned the time back or when one of his friends died, he wouldn't give up, he wouldn't break. He kept going and would continue to do so until he got out of the mansion together with everyone. He would keep going until he couldn't go any further, he would do anything in his power to make things right. He was going to succeed sometime and he was going to keep on walking the road he had chosen until he and his friends got out of the mansion. Why? Because he was Italy Veneziano and he was going to show the world what he was truly made of.


End file.
